Whole-Hearted Holiday

It's been ten days since The Surgery, and having survived Sneeze Fest '08 and a slight fall off the no-more-painkiller wagon, I think we are pretty much back in business. At least enough for a lovely Thanksgiving dinner and some Black Friday shopping madness.

Yesterday was a peaceful day.

We watched the parade, football, and Hancock.

The kids made turkeys for all the dinner guests, played with the seemingly endless number of cousins at their disposal, and let Uncle Daryl build Kapla towers on their faces.

We ate...

...and ate...

...and then ate some more.

And it felt so good.

The tradition among my sisters (and usually my mother) and me is to brave the crowds on the day after. Last year I had decided that there wasn't anything worth losing sleep over and I did not go. I described this experience to Jill as "having a hole in my heart." And when trying to convince me to go this year, Melissa suddenly remembered that she was "mad" at me for not going last year, and we just can't have that. So after perusing the ads several times over, I decided there were enough bargains to entice me out of a post-turkey slumber. At 4:15. AM.

The first stop was Walmart, the epitome of Black Friday chaos. I have been there enough to know how to work it. We were totally thrown for a loop this year, however, when we pulled into the parking lot at 4:45 and saw people walking into the store. What? They changed all the rules on us! The store was still not "open," though, and there were several announcements warning us to not put any merchandise into our carts until 5. Are you kidding me? Look, people, you cannot let the general public into this place on a day like today and then expect them to follow your "rules." These are people willing to inflict physical harm to their fellow shoppers in order to get a flat screen TV. I don't think they are going to refrain from throwing $9 DVDs and a couple pairs of slippers in their carts in the process, 5:00 AM or not.

I personally had to wait in a separate line for the item I was getting. All the way in the back of the store, with Mr. Cigarette Breath breathing down my neck. In a line that did not start moving at 5, due to a credit card scanner malfunction. At least that was the rumor being floated back to us. But soon, we (my fellow wait-in-liners and I) began crawling to the check out line, among speculation that they might run out before it was our turn. We watched cart after cart leave with multiple boxes. Mr. C.B. and wife gave up. But the rest of us (including a loud, obnoxious trouble-maker a couple people behind me) stuck it out and were rewarded for our patience. I can't be sure how many people down the line could say the same, but I am not concerned about them...it's their own fault for arriving at 4:50.

The one fatal error Melissa and I made was not sending her to the front check out lines while I was still waiting. That was where the plan of streamlined, efficient shopping completely collapsed. The Walmart experience should have been 30 minutes less that it was, but both Melissa and I still accomplished what we had set out to do.

On to Old Navy (piece of cake!), Joann's (child's play, if you go to the cutting table in the BACK of the store), and Bed Bath and Beyond (I stayed in the car for this one). Again, a bit longer than originally anticipated, but successful nonetheless. I came home to well-fed kids (including Tyler and Becca, who had slept over) and a semi-clean kitchen. Also a splitting headache and slightly swollen lower right quadrant.

But the sun is shining, I got to take a little nap, the kids have kept busy with cousins and Play Station, and tonight is Pizza and Movie Night. I am one step closer to a complete holiday season. And this year, my heart is full.

I've gotta get out of this prison cell

Someday I'm gonna be free....

Sitting at the computer is now an option. Coughing and sneezing are still out of the question. Laughing can be done while holding on to incision and ignoring the burning pain tearing across the lower abdomen. Leaning over the sink to spit and rinse while brushing teeth takes a great amount of effort. Wiping off the kitchen table is now doable, but don't tell anybody.

As I begin to tiptoe around my physical limitations, the thing that is driving me out of my mind are these four walls. Before last night, I had only been out of the house once since Tuesday--to pizza and movie night at Melissa's.

Last night, the cooped-up feeling was more than I could take. I had already done some arm circles and other stretches while watching "Family Feud" on the Game Show Network. It wasn't enough. I couldn't look at this

for another second. We were putting the kids to bed, and I said to Glenn, "Let's go for a walk. Just around the church. The kids will be fine." And even though Andrew pitched a bit of a fit, and even though it was 30 degrees outside, and even though I had my PJ's on (like I hadn't been wearing them all day to begin with), Glenn and I took a walk around the church parking lot.

Oh, the fresh air. Oh, the joy of new scenery. It lasted less than ten minutes, and at one point I had to tell Glenn to slow down, but it was delicious.

I am looking forward to expanding my horizons even further with an outing to the Ryan's for Tyler's birthday party this evening, and three parent-teacher conferences tomorrow. I have always looked forward to hearing from the teachers how great my children are, but never like this.

Oh, and by the way...that pesky Percocet? Gone. Forever. A real step towards freedom.

Mom, can you spy the lovely flowers you sent me?

Alive and Kicking

Well, alive at least.

And kicking myself for not realizing how painful this little procedure would be.

Everything went well on Tuesday. I rather enjoy being put to sleep. It is an interesting process. I have flashes of memory after being given the first type of anesthesia: the nurses asking me to move to another bed, having my arms strapped down, the mask over my face. And then nothing until I woke up in recovery. Kinda cool.

I was still pretty drugged up when Glenn came in, but I fulfilled my responsibilities of eating, drinking, and going to the bathroom, so after a two second visit from the surgeon (I still am not sure what all they did), I was sent home. I went straight to bed. And then the big drugs began to wear off.

So I am left here with a 3-4 inch abdominal incision, feeling like my guts are going to fall out everytime I stand up. I've been through this before, having had two C-sections, but I did not think I would be revisiting those memories this time.

I think we may have turned a corner this afternoon, though. It was my third nap (of three) and I was able to sleep on my side. Being bed (or couch) ridden is much more enjoyable if there is more than one comfortable position to lay in.

And the pain has been tempered by helpful children, a willing husband, thoughtful friends, and loving family. Phone calls, visits, food, a trip to the store, and occupying Andrew have all been such blessings. And oh yeah--the Percocet too. Can't forget the Percocet.

Shiver me timbers

This morning we woke to this:


The first official (at least for me) snowfall of the season. We may have missed one while we were in Florida. Wink wink. Now for some this sight is met with sighs of resignation and disappointment and feelings of gloom and depression. I totally get it and have felt the same way, but this year, I am trying to find a little silver lining in those low-lying, heavy gray clouds.

Reasons why the cold weather season may not be so bad after all...

1. Cobwebs and dust and fingerprints and other evidences of one's lack of house cleaning are not nearly as apparent in the muted, cloudy light.

2. After going grocery shopping, one can leave the groceries in the car, since the garage is probably colder than the refrigerator anyway.

3. The best food of the year is eaten between during November and December. Thanksgiving dinner (best meal EVER), fudge, pfefferneuse, cinnamon rolls, egg nog, and anything made with pumpkin. Definitely not summer cuisine.

4. Sweats (!) and other large, bulky, elasticised items of clothing are highly appropriate and even encouraged and cover a multitude of winter weather snacking sins (see #3).

5. The extra body heat from children (and husbands) who want to snuggle can be sought after rather than shunned as it is when both the mercury and the humidity rise. Often overheard during the sweltering summer months: Do not touch me! Get totally away from me! In the frigid winter months: I'm freezing! Snuggle me! Who in their right minds is going to argue with that?

Now look, I understand all the issues people have with the cold. Especially here in the black hole of Cleveland where the sun don't shine. I am a California girl at heart. I prefer to not wear coats or socks. By March I am sure I will be singing a different tune. But one thing that Cleveland has taught me is the true beauty of the seasons--four of them, not the two that Central Cali boasts. And I am trying my best to embrace the new season that is upon us with open arms, a blanket, and a nice cup of hot chocolate. And that would not work in July, now would it?

Breaking up is hard to do

I have a secret relationship. His name? Pain. We've been flirting for about a year now, and it finally came to the point where we had to have a DTR (determine the relationship) talk, because things were just not working out for me.

He can be a perfect gentleman at times. The whole time Glenn and I were in Florida he pretty much left me alone. He poked his head in now and then, just to make sure I wouldn't forget him, but thankfully, he respected my time with Glenn.

But over time, he has become more and more abusive and controlling. He is a very jealous boyfriend. He interferes with my other relationships. He does not like my attempts at eating healthy, nor does he appreciate it when I try to do too much. Too much according to his standards, though, not mine. Bring on the vacuuming, carrying bags of groceries in from the car, cleaning out two freezers, and making pizza, and he rears his ugly head. I think he knows our time together is quickly coming to an end, that it won't be long now until I cut him off completely, and he is hanging on for dear life, milking our relationship for all it's worth.

Until we end things completely, there is just one thing that can help me deal with his torture, but it is something that can also have a potentially harmful grip on me. And I am so afraid of going from one negative relationship to another that could have even greater ramifications. This one's name? Percoset. This guy's a player. He's gone from person to person, destroying many lives in the process with his gentle touch and smooth ways.

Last night (actually early this morning) I woke up and Pain was in bed with me. He had a grip on me and would not let go. I wandered downstairs and knew Percoset was my only chance to break free. I embraced Percoset with a cup of water and a bowl-of-cereal chaser. And even though this relationship can be just as controlling, it is so much sweeter. So calming and relaxing, so warm and soft. Who wouldn't want a boyfriend like that? But I just can't let myself get too involved with him, even though he is seductive and enticing.

So here I am, torn between two who are ruling my life. But like a battered wife planning her escape, I have a plan to break free. By this time next week, I am hoping the two Master P's will be gone forever. Goodbye and good riddance.

Post a la Miley

Dear List,

The 7 things I hate about you:

1. You are everywhere. The counter. The fridge. My planner. My head.

2. I cannot get you out of my head.

3. Sometimes I think I can keep you in my head but then you are not nearly as effective.

4. My planner looks like evidence of someone's psychotic break.

5. I add things to you that I have already done just so that I can cross it off.

6. You even find your way into my blog.

And the seventh thing I hate the most about you:

You make me love you.

Self-Absorbed

The theme for five whole days. Five days of doing what we wanted when we wanted to, a luxury we can't afford in our daily lives (thank you, Grandma and Grandpa Franklin, for taking the crew for us!)

All in the warm Florida sun, or while watching a sunset over the Gulf of Mexico, or falling asleep on an uninhabited key, or seeing the sun rise over the Atlantic Ocean. And I took about five hundred pictures of it all.

Of course, with there only being the two of us, there was no one to take pictures of Glenn and me together. Never fear. I made use of my prowess with my camera's timer, and may I say--man, I'm good. Who needs a professional photographer when you've got a button to push and ten seconds before the shutter clicks? I set that camera up everywhere-- deck railings, towels, signs, swim bags, even trash cans. I turned down offers from people willing to snap a shot for us.

We've got this under control, thank you.

If he weren't married to me, Glenn might think I am part of the papparazzi, constantly stalking places to perch the camera, saying Move over there, no--back, ok, hold it! But it was so very worth it, so very fun getting the shots just right, and we are so very grateful to have these money shots of our vacation.

Cocoa Beach at Sunset
Thank you, Wakulla Suites, for providing such great lighting on your deck!

Again, the walk down to Cocoa Beach

Shell Key just south of St. Pete

Duh, ice cream, of course!

Clearwater Beach

We also made use of Glenn's long arms.
Only he can reach far enough to get us both in the shot.

More Cocoa Beach, camera poised on a surprisingly clean and unsmelly garbage can.

St. Pete Beach

Sunset at Redington Shores Beach

Now, obviously I took more than this. Do you really want to see 50 pictures of the same sunset? Or the 75 I took of the sunrise? How about the 30 I have of the various birds, shells, dolphins, sting rays, lizards, and other local wildlife? Nah, those are going in to a Snapfish book (thank you, Oprah--I knew there was a reason I kept recording you every day!). You'll have to come visit me to see it.

Because, really, those pictures are pretty good, too.

Remembering

Today was our school's Veteran's Day assembly, an event that has gained quite a bit of recognition here locally. We had the mayor, several council members, the police and fire chiefs, and a liason from our senator attend, along with many veterans. Andrew is a member of the Peace Force, and his job today was to greet the guests as they arrived. He let me take a picture of him.

The third graders (that's Brooke) sang the hymns from each branch of the military. Here is a clip of a very enthusiastic Brooke:

The veterans stood as their hymn was sung, and the Peace Force members handed out cards and flowers.
At the end, the first graders sang "Proud to be an American." I recorded that also, but Andrew was at the very end and a distinguished veteran friend was blocking my view, so you don't get to see much of Andrew. The nice thing about concentrating on the recording was that is distracted me from crying! The whole assembly was very sweet and respectful. I am so glad that we are passing on the importance of honoring our soldiers to our children. And today, the children did our soldiers proud as well.

The show must go on...

Last year, when Andrew had afternoon kindergarten, it was just me and him in the mornings. I, being the funny mom that I am, called our time together "The Andrew and Mommy Show," sung to a catchy little tune. Today I got to have Porter in the morning while my sister was enroute to California and my brother-in-law was at work. And naturally, I sang "It's the Porter and Amy Show!" to him every chance I got. He was pushing for the "Porter and An-doo Show," but unfortunately Andrew had other obligations, i.e. school. So Porter and I tackled WalMart and Giant Eagle alone. Porter did put on quite a show while we were checking out at Giant Eagle, laughing at nothing and talking gibberish.

We got home and had to play outside in the gorgeous weather. We started with a rocket game that lasted all of five minutes, but Porter got some good air.


I purchased some insurance for a good nap by walking with Porter back to his house to get Macey off the bus. We hung out there for lunch and rockin'-and-rollin' (more nap insurance) and headed back to my house. It worked for one:

But not for the other:All in all, Porter and I were separated from each other for just over two hours. And he was becoming more and more disenchanted with me as the day went on. He was very happy to have Andrew greet him upon returning this afternoon. And at 5:40, he kind of lost it and wanted nothing to do with me or anyone in my family. Fortunately, Nate came back with the ballerinas soon after to whisk him away from the woman standing in for his mom but not quite making the cut.

But guess what, buddy. It may not appeal to the toddler demographic, but the show's back on tomorrow. And I am sure that the ratings will be through the roof.

Talk me down from the Ledges

On Saturday we took a little trip to one of the most beautiful places I have ever been to--Nelson Ledges State Park. I first heard about this place when our friends, the Quists, posted about it on their blog. When I saw the pictures and realized how close it was, just about 45 minutes away, I knew I wanted to visit. Saturday was the perfect opportunity. Nothing going on, beautiful weather, the fall colors in full bloom. I will let the pictures speak for themselves....

We found a waterfall--BONUS!



Make that two!

You can run, but you can't hide

It all finally caught up with me. Three pregnancies (including a twin pregnancy and 2 C-sections), years of wrestling four young children, weight gains and losses (mostly gains), and various intensities of working out have left me with just one thing: a hernia. OK, I guess that's not the only thing, but it is what has been consuming my life over the past month. There have been many days and nights of pain, several doctors appointments, a CT scan which showed nothing, another trip back to the doctor where he just didn't show, a couple sleepless nights, and finally, a surgery scheduled for November 18. The physician's assistant had never seen someone so excited for a surgery before. I say let's get this thing over with.

It really isn't that big of a deal, especially now that I have made the connection between exercise and pain. I have stopped weight training and have mostly been walking. That has really helped a lot. And I have a trip to Florida with Glenn (and only Glenn) coming up on Saturday to distract me. And, if worse comes to worse, there's always my trusty narcotics prescription to make it all go away. Except that those darn drugs are the reason for my bouts of insomnia--I'm not taking those unless absolutely necessary!

I am also secretly looking forward to some built-in, mandatory time off. You know, rest and recovery, no unloading the dishwasher or lifting laundry baskets. Glenn says, "So things will pretty much be the same...?"

It all just goes to show that sometimes the human body can only take so much. Sometimes we need a little help in getting ourselves back together, whether from a doctor who sews things back into place, family members who watch kids during long appointments and remind you it's ok to need help, a husband who lets you sleep from 6 to 11:15 PM, then stays up with you while you have "dinner" and watch a show and plans to take the day off to be with you for the procedure, or family who listen to the whole darn thing over the phone (and are outraged in your behalf when your medical care is less than stellar) (and would drop everything to fly out if it weren't just outpatient). That has been a hard lesson for me to learn, but I am accepting it. And really looking forward to it all being over.